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“Niceness had nothing to do with it. I may be just a small-town judge, but I take my duties seriously. I did what I felt was fair.”
“So, my charm had nothing to do with it?” Rush slid out from under the sink and sat up.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“And afterward, you didn’t even remember me?” He stood, stripped off his gloves, and glanced around for someplace to dispose of them.
“Not until now.” Tracy pointed to the trash receptacle at the end of the counter. “Thanks for checking the cat and dog, and for fixing my sink. Don’t worry about the tools and the bucket. I can clean up.”
“You’d be better off resting.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m feeling steadier already. And you must have better things to do with your time than play handyman. Go on. Get out of here before I start feeling guilty.”
Rush tossed his gloves in the trash and picked up his bag, which he’d left on the counter. Last year, when he’d faced Tracy in court, he could’ve sworn he’d felt a spark of connection between them. But he’d been mistaken. Today, the beautiful judge had barely remembered him.
It was time to cut his losses and cross the lady off his imaginary list—even though hers was the only name on it.
“You’re sure I can’t pay you for your trouble?” she asked.
“I’m sure. I was glad to help out.” Rush picked up his bag, which he’d left on the counter. “If you need anything, call me anytime. I mean it.”
Crossing the front room, he stepped around Murphy, who was snoring in his sleep. In the open doorway, he paused and looked back toward the kitchen. Tracy was bent over, gathering up the tools.
“I’ll drop off those Cosequin samples,” he said.
She stood, her hair tumbling over the bandage he’d put on her forehead. A ray of sunlight, shining through the kitchen window, seemed to light her from within. Even in her baggy sweatshirt and ragged jeans, she was a goddess.
“Thanks, but there’s no need,” she said. “I can fill the prescription at Shop Mart today.”
“It’s no trouble. I have to come into town anyway, for an appointment.” Rush stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him. So much for his unrequited crush. His partners would tease him about striking out with the judge. For now, he would just have to grin and bear it. For the future, all he could do was call this a lesson learned and move on.
* * *
Clutching Steve’s old tools, Tracy stood at the front window and watched Rush walk out to the street. His long strides stirred the fallen leaves that covered the sidewalk. Caught by the breeze, they swirled around him in a shower of reds and golds.
Even from behind, the vet was pure eye candy. He was also gentle and kind, and she could tell he liked her. If she’d given him any encouragement, he might have asked her out. But even if he had, she would have turned him down. She wasn’t ready yet. Maybe she never would be.
The memory of that day, eighteen months ago, when she’d sat by Steve’s bed and watched him slip away, was as raw as if it had happened last week. And the fact that today would’ve been their wedding anniversary only deepened the pain.
Turning away from the window, she glanced down at her bare finger. At Steve’s funeral, as she’d leaned over the casket to kiss him good-bye, she had impulsively taken off her gold wedding band and slipped it onto his little finger. Afterward, when it was too late, she’d regretted the loss. The ring had been a connection to the man she’d loved and the life they’d shared. Now it was gone forever.
Tracy paused for a moment to gaze at the photo on the mantel, taken by a friend on a Galveston beach, not long after their wedding. She and Steve had met in law school. They’d fallen in love on their first date but waited until after graduation to marry. Steve had graduated at the top of his class, Tracy with honors that same year.
They’d planned to work in Austin or the Dallas–Fort Worth area, but when Steve’s widowed mother had needed care and offered them clear title to the family home, they’d returned to Branding Iron, where Steve had grown up. Steve had joined a law firm in nearby Cottonwood Springs. Tracy had filled a vacancy in Branding Iron’s city court, ruling mostly on traffic tickets, petty crimes, domestics, small claims, and property disputes. It wasn’t the glamorous, big-city job she’d dreamed of, but being with Steve had made it all right. Now that he’d been gone for more than a year, Tracy had begun to imagine more challenging jobs in more interesting places. Maybe it was time to sell the house and move on.
But long-range plans would have to wait. Right now, she needed to rush to Shop Mart, fill the prescription for the dog, and get a small truckload of supplies for the mom-to-be cat. It would be like helping out a little pregnant teenager, Tracy told herself. See to her needs, and when she’s ready, send her on her way.
She finished cleaning up the kitchen mess and changed into clean jeans, a light blue hoodie, and sneakers. She could put on her court clothes later, when it was time to go to work.
The big-box store was crowded w
ith people buying treats, costumes, and decorations for Halloween, which was just two days off. The aisles were festooned with orange and black crepe paper streamers. Fake skeletons, ghosts, witches, and spiderwebs dangled overhead.
Tracy, whose house didn’t have so much as a pumpkin on the porch, grabbed an empty cart and tossed in a couple bags of miniature candy bars for the neighborhood kids. What did it matter? Three days from now, the Halloween decorations would come down and the Christmas displays would go up, along with that awful fake cinnamon smell and those cheesy Christmas carols blasting over the P.A.
Christmas.
Last Christmas, her first since Steve’s death, had been the most miserable holiday of her life. With the blinds closed, she’d sat alone in the darkened living room, hugging Murphy and watching the classic-movies channel on TV. There’d been no Christmas tree, no gifts, and no phone calls. She’d turned off her phone to make sure of that. This year wasn’t likely to be much better. Her only wish was to get through the holiday without sinking into a blue funk.
